


Run, Run Rudolph

by Anonymous



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Anal Fingering, Castiel and Sam Winchester are Jack Kline's Parents, Crack, Frottage, M/M, Rimming, Sexual Humor, Switching, Traumatized Jack Kline, Ugly Holiday Sweaters
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-25
Updated: 2018-12-25
Packaged: 2019-09-27 04:46:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,833
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17155580
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: Jack's first Christmas is supposed to be very special. Unfortunately, Sam and Castiel can only be patient for so long.





	Run, Run Rudolph

Castiel has known for a long time that love often requires doing things you’d rather not.

There’s a number of times he’s been forced to do things by people he’s cared for, many of them highly unpleasant. Right now, though, wearing this sweater seems to be the most unpleasant by far.

Though he can scarcely say he’s unacquainted with humans, there’s many experiences that are still new or completely unknown to him. Most of his understanding of humanity is filtered through his interactions with Sam and Dean, who can scarcely be considered ideal representations of conventional humans (though he can attest from experience that Sam is certainly the ideal of male human physique).

One such custom that he hasn’t been privy to is Christmas. Neither his closest friend nor his love are very festive for any holiday, and they’re the first to admit it. Thanksgiving was celebrated with takeout from any number of available places, regardless of whether it was turkey or not. Birthdays might entitle a Winchester to have their pick of breakfast, lunch and dinner spots, and the next morning both brothers usually found themselves hungover and in bed with a stranger (though in recent years Cas had been the one Sam had woken up to).

But of course, being less than a year old, Jack is not as attuned to the Winchester customs as Castiel. And when the Nephilim said that he wanted to celebrate Christmas, none of them could refuse. Dean, despite his reservations about Jack, jumped head-first into the idea, though Castiel suspect it has more to do with getting experiences he never had as child than for the Nephilim’s sake.

Regardless, the Bunker has been in high spirits for the past week. The brothers miraculously managed to compromise when picking out a tree and decorations with Jack, and now that the day was finally here, they’ve managed to avoid any major crises. They all woke up closer to the afternoon, though Jack was up far earlier than either Winchester, with all the enthusiasm of… well, a child on Christmas morning.

Any conventional Christmas can’t go without the exchanging of gifts, and being the youngest and most eager, Jack has gotten the most by far. The most memorable among them include the toy lightsaber from Sam and Castiel that nearly brought the Nephilim to tears, the pornographic magazine from Dean that Sam almost immediately scolded his brother for, and the boxed Star Wars film set that ended up being one of Dean’s serious gifts.

Of course, the older men also exchanged gifts between themselves. Dean has received several magazines of his own from Castiel, ranging from sexual content to cooking and vehicular maintenance, a 6-pack of beer from Jack, and an album from Sam that includes many pictures of loved ones, including from the past year of both of them with Mary. Needless to say, Dean was very close to weepy himself.

Sam and Castiel didn’t feel the need to exchange material items with each other, had gotten several presents as a pair. Never one to miss out on extra ribbing, the older Winchester did buy a couple gifts more likely intended to be a joke, such as the assortment of lubricants that had him bent over with laughter when a red-faced Sam chastised him yet again. Others, however, were more heartfelt, such as the book on parenting that ended in the brothers hugging awkwardly.

Jack’s gift for his adoptive fathers had most likely been given in all sincerity. When Sam and Castiel had unwrapped it, the Nephilim had been positively bursting with enthusiasm and excitement, anticipating their reaction.

Unfortunately, the gift in question was a pair of the most hideous-looking sweaters Castiel had ever seen. Both were clearly themed for the Holiday, as their fronts were each dominated by a giant reindeer head, complete with a red-button nose and plastic eyes with constantly shifting pupils. The smaller of the two, clearly meant for Castiel, was a green that even the angel found off-putting, whereas Sam’s was a gaudy tomato-red.

Dean had spent a good three minutes laughing, and in those same three minutes, Sam and Castiel were left trying to muster some enthusiasm about the clothes, repeatedly telling Jack how much they loved them. That had been a mistake on their part, because the Nephilim started to encourage that they try the sweaters on, and Dean joined in through barely suppressed chuckles.

Which is how he’s ended up at the foyer’s table stuck in this overheated, irritating piece of wool. It’s been over six hours and he’s counting down the milliseconds till he can retire to his and Sam’s room to take it off.

Of course, if Castiel is uncomfortable in this sweater, then Sam must be suffering even more. From what the angel can observe, his lover’s face is nearly as red as the sweater he’s wearing, most likely due to the overwhelming heat and tightness of the aforementioned clothing. Even though the sweater is only on his upper body, it seems to be spiking the hunter’s internal heat all over. Sam’s sleeves are rolled up past his elbow, but that doesn’t seem to have prevented the sweat from materializing on his face, and other places unseen by human eyes. Getting up and walking over to the hunter, Castiel offers a small smile.

“How are you?” He asks. Sam gives a low grunt, lazily nodding.

“No complaints,” Castiel tuts in annoyance, pressing a hand to the other man’s forehead. A swipe pulls most of the sweat away, but the angel can sense more already waiting to form.

“You are a terrible liar, Sam,” he informs the hunter, placing a swift kiss on his cheek. “A good father, perhaps, but a terrible liar.” Sam makes a small sound of amusement in response.

“Dean said will dinner will ready in like 30 minutes,” he points out. “We just have to wait till then, and we can maybe change into pajamas after.” Castiel smiles, rubbing at Sam’s shoulder.

“We could.” The angel considers. “But I feel that I might have a growing appreciation of these sweaters.”

“Funny,” the hunter snorts.

“I’m serious, Sam,” Castiel says, tracing the outline of the reindeer on Sam’s sweater with a finger. “They are very festive, and Jack did buy them specifically for us out of love.” At that reminder, Castiel feels a wave of guilt wash over Sam, and the hunter sighs slightly. “However, even though Jack likely did not intend it, there is a certain… _ carnality _ to them.”  Sam nearly laughs out loud.

“Really? How?” The angel draws even closer.

“I can feel how it’s affecting you, Sam Winchester. You’re sweating everywhere, and you’re dying to strip down so that you can scratch at every itch on your flesh.” Sam gives a slight shiver at the angel’s words.

“You know, Jack’s busy helping Dean cook,” he says after a brief pause. “I’m sure they won’t notice if we disappeared for a bit.” Castiel smiles victoriously.

“That sounds like a brilliant idea.”

* * *

“Kay, we’re almost finished, I think,” Dean declares, clapping his oven-mitted hands together. “Let the love birds know dinner’s gonna be ready and we’ll need help setting the table.” Jack is practically a puppy for all his enthusiasm, giving a toothy grin before heading out of the kitchen.

“Oh, Dean?” Jack’s head pops back in the door frame. “Thank you for letting me help.” Dean gives an awkward shrug, tensing up slightly.

“Sure. Did good, kid. Now go get the lovebirds, before I eat this all by myself.”

* * *

“Cas!” Sam cries out, clenching at the bedsheets. The angel simply hums in content, stretching his tongue deeper into the hunter. Arching back against Castiel’s face, the hunter lets out a few choice swears, reaching down and grasping a fistful of his black hair. “Fuck yes, Cas, your tongue feels so fucking good.”

“That might be all we have time for,” the angel says, dragging a moan of frustration out of his lover as he pulls away from his rim. “I don’t wish to tell you to rush things, Sam, but..”

“Cas, Seriously?” The hunter is quite the sight, with his red sweater on but legs high in the air and jeans already to his ankles.  He’s managed a mixture of flustered, offended, and annoyed, sweat plastering strands of hair to his forehead. The pink furl that the angel just had his tongue in clenches desperately around nothing, desperately craving more stimulation, Sam’s enticing swollen member twitching and leaking as the hunter holds back a groan.

“We do not have enough  _ time _ , Sam,”

“So stop wasting it!” The hunter groans. Bringing his legs down to rest on the bed, he undoes the button of Castiel’s pants, before pulling them and the underwear beneath down to the angel’s thighs. Castiel’s already hard, his previously trapped erection leaking steadily just from the taste of his lover’s own delicious pleasure. Sam grasps it in hand, sending sensations shooting through his body. Holding back a groan, Castiel leans into the human, nuzzling against his neck. Sam laughs softly into his ear, opening his mouth slightly so that his teeth can graze against it. “Like that?” 

“We must..” Is all Castiel manages to get out before Sam draws him into a kiss. And he can’t help but moan at the sinfulness of it all, of the human tasting himself on the angel’s lips. The space between them shrinks as they embrace, their erections rubbing against each other with deliriously delicious friction. They’re burning hot and itching all over, which is only intensified by these ridiculous sweaters. Castiel tugs at the bottom of Sam’s, trying to pull it up off his body, but the material is surprisingly tight, only riding up enough to expose the hunter’s stomach. “These sweaters will not come off.”

“We don’t have time,” Sam urges. “We can put them in the wash later.” And hope that they’re ruined beyond repair, Castiel thinks privately, as his cartoon reindeer’s eyes jiggle and shake. “So, do you want to be on the top or the bottom?”

* * *

 

Strange, Jack thinks. He’s been searching everywhere for his fathers for the past 15 minutes and can’t seem to find them anywhere. They weren’t in the foyer, or the library, or the workout room, or the garage. After he didn’t find them in these four places, he considered that they might have possibly stepped out for a few last minute groceries, but none of the cars in the garage are missing, so that’s a bust. Even a quick peak in all the restrooms or storage rooms has yielded little success.

The only place left to check is their room. All three men have been quick to tell Jack that when they’re in their rooms during the day, it’s when they want to be alone with themselves for a while. Sam and Cas have always added that if it’s a true emergency, Jack’s fine to come in as long as he knocks first. So it shouldn’t be that big of a deal, should it?

Making his way up to their bedroom, Jack can’t hear much going on. In fact, the first the Nephilim senses is a thickness hanging in the air. It’s almost as if his reality is dampened a bit. There’s a fuzzy sound in his ears, and he’s feel almost sleepy and lethargic, as if moving through water as he makes his way to the door. He dismisses it almost immediately. Jack’s accustomed to picking up on people’s feelings as a Nephilim, so it’s probably Sam’s exhaustion he’s sensing. Wrapping a hand on the knob, he slowly pushes against the door, easing it open.

* * *

Christmas sex, Castiel has decided, is one of the best experiences in the world. Lying on his back atop of the covers, the angel cannot help relish every bit of friction, every sensation. Sam’s already large size is augmented further when draped on top of him like this, and the weight of his lover’s body on him provides a weird comfort. They’re both painfully hard, constantly dripping precum as their erections brush against one another, or on their thighs. At some points, Sam moves downward and rubs against his perineum and hole while Castiel’s cock will rub against Sam’s stomach. At others, Sam shifts up, and his cock will sputter out onto Castiel’s sweater as Castiel rubs his erection in the cleft of Sam’s ass.

From the minute they hit the bed, they haven’t stopped kissing, apart from the token attempt to remove their sweaters. The cloth has proven tight and constricting, especially around the neck. Castiel can feel how his human is getting progressively more light-headed, needing to pull away just to inhale oxygen that hasn’t been recycled between the two of them so many times already. Not that the angel minds. It provides ample opportunity for him to plant kisses up and down Sam’s neck, which sends the hunter into overdrive.

They haven’t made much progress in removing the sweaters. Sam’s has ridden up to leave his stomach exposed. Castiel’s has only gotten a little past his navel. It will probably need a solid washing after this. Both of them have been steadily leaking precum, a good amount of which has ended up on the sweater. Though the angel can’t be certain, the poor reindeer on the front probably looks like it had been caught in a blizzard.

“Think we have enough time now?” Sam chuckles, nearly out of breath, into his ear. Castiel gives no response, except to yank at the human’s hair and drag him back down into a crushing kiss. He feels a familiar shudder run through the hunter’s body, and makes no effort in hiding his grin.

“We have enough time,” the angel declares, reaching down to grasp Sam’s cock. Smirking at the other man’s moans, Castiel begins to tug earnestly on his lover’s member. “When one considers you will not last another minute.”

“Cas…” Sam grunts, mouth open ever so slightly. “Not yet.” Castiel slows his ministrations down, staring up into the human’s hazel eyes.

“What’s wrong?” The angel asks. Sam reaches down and bats Castiel’s hand away from his throbbing erection, and for a moment, worry sinks in. Normally he’s very good at sensing Sam’s emotions, but he wasn’t even aware that something was remotely wrong, especially to the level that Sam would physically make him stop.

Suddenly, the hunter presses their cocks together and wraps a hand around both of them. It’s an arduous task, considering their endowedness, but Sam manages . Castiel sucks in a breath and grabs onto the human’s hips, the almost burning heat of his erection against Sam’s practically overwhelming.

“Sam!” He gasps, arching into an upward thrust. The sensation clearly pushes Sam into action, as the hunter begins to thrust forward while making a solid jerking motion with his hands. The friction draws groans out of both men, and they continue to rub against each other. Castiel can feel Sam’s impending orgasm draw closer and closer with each motion. His isn’t far behind, but Sam will most likely finish first. 

In the corner of his mind, Castiel can sense something else. It’s muffled, muted, probably something happening through the barrier he placed around their room. Dean is familiar enough with the dulled senses caused by the barrier to know that it’s a sign for him to stay away from their room. Yet the sensation is growing closer and closer, undeterred by the barrier. 

Castiel’s attention becomes focused on a pressure against his hole. Turning back to Sam, the angel opens his mouth to warn his lover to stop. He’s too slow, and as one of the hunter’s thick fingers enters him, the heat of Castiel’s orgasm washes over him.

* * *

Jack has the misfortune of walking in right as they climax. He realizes too late that his dulled senses were from something Castiel put up to stop people from entering their room, as his senses return with a vengeance and the first thing he witnesses is the simultaneous orgasms of his fathers.

Sam and Castiel have no time to bask in their glow, because the minute they see Jack, they freeze. The room is dead quiet.

Though he really wishes he could, there is no denying their actions. Jack has literally caught them with their pants down, and both hunter and angel are covered in the evidence of their coupling. Castiel’s definitely drawn the short end of that stick, as his sweater is coated in several weeks’ worth. If the reindeer were real, it would probably be incapable of seeing from how thoroughly glazed-over its googly eyes are. The black pupils are still rattling in their sockets, staring hauntingly at Jack.

This whole thing could go on from eternity, Sam and Castiel and the reindeer all staring silently at him, and him staring back, with no one saying anything. So, the Nephilim does what any sensible person would do.

He runs from the room screaming.


End file.
